The Fifth Ticket Fraud
by Azumizai
Summary: COMPLETE :: A Ficlet based on the time when the Fifth Ticket Fraud was announed, to when Willy Wonka opens his factory to the winners. :: ONE SHOT ::


((**Disclaimer:** I do _not_ own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. At all. So there. ))

Hey! I have only recently seen the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie, and I love it. I have allready seen it two times, and I might be seeing it again. So, I decided to treat you with a short Ficlet to keep you going while I write my Fruits Basket fic, and a new CatCF fic. This fic takes place from the time when the Fifth Ticket Fraud was announced, to when Willy Wonka greeted the visitors to his factory. So enjoy.

**Warning: This Fanfiction contains Movie Spoilers**. If you don't like them, watch the movie and come back.

* * *

Willy Wonka sighed and thrust down his large black coat and sunglasses onto the hallway floor. While he made his way over to the door, which contained the first only chocolate waterfall, he sighed and rubbed his temple with mild frustration. Once he reached it, a small Oompa-Loompa walked over to him and held up a newspaper, with the headlines: "Fifth Ticket Fraud".

Willy Wonka stopped, and grabbed the newspaper, and thanked the Oompla-Loompa with a non-verbal gesture, before it trotted off. Wonka thrust the door open, and walked through it, holding the paper close to his face, reading it diligently.

"My, Oh my," he said out-loud, reading the articles carefully, "it seems that there might only be four guests."

He frowned for a second, and tucked the paper underneath his arm, and made his way towards the boat that was approaching him.

"It seems," he continued, "that I might just have to cancel this whole thing."

The boat slowed to a stop near him, and he sat down in it, crossing his legs. "I don't like the look of these children at all... Forward," he ordered. "A Greedy Glutton, a Spoiled Brat, a Winner Wannabe, and a Mumbling Hacker. _None _of them look fitting enough to be my heir."

The boat was already making it's way towards a tunnel, and the Oompa-Loompa's started to row faster. As the boat rushed down various passageways he thought to himself about the particular dilemma.

"Maybe, it's only the newspapers," he concluded, "maybe they are making them look that way." His face contorted into one of mild disgust, "or maybe their P-... P-... P-... ... ...Mums and Dads... made them seem that way. Yea, that's something that they'd do. Stop here."

The boat stopped at a rather plain landing that housed a wonderful glass elevator. Wonka departed from the boat, and thanked the Oompa-Loompa's, before heading towards the elevator. He opened the paper again, trying to find some trace that maybe the fraud was actually the paper itself. That child did seem much more promising than the others... even though he was allergic to chocolates... and candies for that matter... he was just so nice…

"Well, this won't do at all, I'll have to -" WHAM. Wonka hit the elevator, and fell on the floor in a crumpled heap.

He lay there for a few seconds dazed, before standing up abruptly and straightening his hat. "- to watch where I am going."

He opened the door, then walked in it. Checking through his key ring, he pulled out a tiny purple key, and jammed it into a keyhole at the very top left-most corner of the elevator, which was labeled: "Home". He twisted it, and instantly, the elevator sped towards its destination.

He stayed silent the whole trip, Upways, Leftways, and Downways, towards his personal quarters. Once it stopped, Wonka pulled the key out of the keyhole, and he walked into his home's 'landing' of sorts. Wonka unbuttoned his second jacket and placed it on a coat rack, and he took off his shoes. Putting on slippers, he scooted his way over to his office, and sat down on his spinney chair, and twirled his way towards the desk, setting the newspaper on the stack of many others.

"Well, I hope that somehow that some other little boy will find the ticket today," his eyes flicked to the outside, watching all of the people doing there business on the street. He gazed for a moment, at the house that was directly across from the factory, all the way down that road. He squinted for a moment, gazing at how small and run down it was. And, for a brief moment, he felt a twinge of pity for whoever lived there.

His eyes then flicked down the street when he saw a glint of gold streak down the road, which was being held by a small boy. He watched the small figure dash madly down the street, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered what that person doing. He continued to watch the little boy till he reached the shack that he was staring at moments before.

"Hmn. Sure can run fast," he thought, smiling for a moment in a childish way and laughed lightly, before turning away from the window, and to more pressing matters.

* * *

Wonka sat upright in his bed, sweat dribbling down the sides of his face. Breathing heavily, he turned to the clock which read: 4:00am. He sighed deeply and flung his head back down on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

"What a _weird_ dream," he said aloud, "No... What a _terrible_ dream."

In fact, Willy Wonka had a nightmare. It was horrible, he dreamt, that all of the children and their parents were spies for the other candy companies, and they stole all of his ideas. All of the companies made factories that were 3 times bigger than his own, but much more factory-like, and bought him out. In the end, he was fired, and he saw himself living in the shack across from the factory, without a job... without his factory... without his Oompa-Loompa's... without an heir.

His mind traced over the dream, and he glanced around the room to be sure that it really was _just_ a dream.

"Oh, I'll have to stop anything like _that_ from happening," he said, looking at the ceiling confidently, "I wont show them anything _that_ special then. I'll save everything else for the contest winner." He grinned rather childishly, and randomly giggled. He placed his hand over his mouth to stop him from doing it again. Even though he was alone, he blushed in embarrassment.

Wonka lay there for several moments, thinking of all the wonderful things he was going to save for the special child, before dozing off again in a kind, but dreamless, sleep.

* * *

Wonka stood outside of his factory in the blistering cold, by the right side of the factory, so none of the children would notice him. He watched the children arrive, one by one. The first was being the little boy he spotted earlier, dashing down the street. He smiled for a moment, and gazed at him, scanning him from head to foot. He noticed that his coat, pants, and shirt were rather raggedy, and he seemed slightly thin. Wonka already found himself planning that when the child won, that he'd treat him to a great huge dinner.

Wonka shook himself. No. This child _could_ loose. He can't make future plans about children that might loose.

Trying to forget about the boy, he turned his sight on the elderly fellow that he had along with him. Strange. For some reason Wonka recognized the fellow, and he couldn't place a finger where. He knew one thing, he knew him from before he closed his factory down to normal workers.

"He better not be one of those mean copycat spies after my secret recipes." he said aloud, one of the children glanced his way, and he ducked against the wall. Peering over the edge to see that the child had turned his gaze away from his general direction.

"I don't know if I can do this," he said again, though much quieter, "I haven't spoken to any children... Since, forever." He added in a quieter note, "I haven't spoken to _anyone_ for… so long. Minus the Oompa-Loompa's…"

He pulled out his queue-cards and flipped through them, trying to at least memorize a couple of them, to ease his nerves. Pulling out his pocket watch, he glanced at it to check the time, and it had just turned its hands so it read: 10 o'clock.

He took the microphone out of his pocket and said aloud, and in a rather monotonous voice, "Please Enter." The gates screeched open, and the people dashed in quickly. "Come forward." The people obliged and they walked forwards. "Close doors." The door screeched shut, and they halted in front of the massive factory. "Welcome to my humble factory," he said kindly, "Well, if you don't know who I am... Well... I'm -" He pressed a button on the side of the microphone and dropped it on the ground. The puppets started to sing, "Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka..."

As the parents and children stared at the childish show, dumbfounded, he dashed over to the right side of the people and watched as well, slightly dancing with his cane. He thought to himself rather merrily that maybe it would work out all right in the end. As long that all the children behaved. His factory could be very dangerous.

When the chair rose, and the, now melted, puppets stopped singing. He clapped merrily, and while he spoke about how it was "wonderful", and "a bit dodgey in the middle part", he thought to himself in his head, 'this is it'. The tour had begun. "Wow!"

_"Good Morning Starshine! The earth says hello!"_

* * *

I'm sorry for it's horribleness... heh, I wrote it in about an hour or so close to midnight. So, I dunno what you'll think of it. I may write it again, but this time, pull some more of Wonka's _feelings_ into it. Also, expect another and much more _lengthy_ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fic to come out. (I allready have completed the first Chapter). The next fic takes place _after_ the movie (just a couple of weeks).. So yah... you may only have to wair a day or two...

**Important Note: **Please Review. I wanna know if any of you liked it. Plus, I may feel like updating faster if I know that people accually _read_ what I write. (No flames... I'll only feed them to Gloop).**  
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